


Facts About Cats

by NotTasha



Series: Annie Greer Saga [5]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Cats, Gen, Pre-Series, young ezra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTasha/pseuds/NotTasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series follows young Ezra before he met up with the Seven.  Is it just Ezra's nature to be a bad boy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Facts About Cats

**Author's Note:**

> RATING: G  
> CATEGORY: Challenge - Annie Greer Saga  
> MAJOR CHARACTERS: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer  
> DISCLAIMERS: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended. No infringement upon the copyrights held by Timbuk3 or Pat McDonald is intended either  
> SUMMARY: August 2004 Songfic Challenge offered by JBrooks: Write us a story inspired by a song.   
> ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: Pat McDonald of Timbuk3 for "Facts about Cats". The lyrics are listed at the end of the story.  
> AWARDS: 2006 Mistresses Of Malarkey "Best Gen Series" Award and 'Perfect' Award  
> DATE: Originally posted August 24, 2004

Annie Greer looked for the boy. It was a common activity for her. Ezra was usually nearby, but he had a habit of disappearing – he'd flit in and out of sight, like a mote of dust caught momentarily in sunlight and sent back into shadow – here and then gone. It was his nature, she decided. But she was the kind of person who liked to put her hand to things, who liked to know exactly what she had in front of her, who liked to know where her boy was. So she looked.

She knew that he was somewhere about the house. He wouldn't have left without telling her and they were planning to go for a promenade together later.

When he was at home, Ezra was usually helping her with chores, reading or continuing his trials at the piano. Her house held more music than it used to, more laughter. It seemed to breathe now with fresh air, seemed to delight in daylight. Where once, her quaint house was like a prison, it was a home again.

The weather was hot; the birds were twittering in the trees. A lovely day.

They'd leave for their walk when she found him. The breeze might be blowing by the lake and the park would be buzzing with happy people.

She searched for Ezra, slowly making her way through one room and then another, not calling for him. She wanted to happen upon him, as if it were by accident. He didn't seem to be within, so she turned her attention to the yard. Hopefully, he wasn't on the roof again. The boy certainly enjoyed heights and his proclivity to climb scared the daylights out of her. 

Standing in her kitchen, she gazed out into the little backyard that Mr. Whistler helped tend. If the gardener were here, the boy would be at his side, no doubt, asking him questions, pestering and helping him. Ezra would always manage to find the least strenuous tasks in the garden, the chores that might allow one to stay clean. The old man seemed to appreciate the company in any case.

But it was Friday, so Mr. Whistler would be elsewhere. Annie gazed out her back window, searching. The yard appeared empty at first glance. Scanning for him, Annie's eyes lit upon something else moving in her yard. Her eyes narrowed.

A cat stole across the grass, walking with a certain arrogance– a big white cat with large tabby spots that looked like continents in a creamy sea. The neighbor cat, aptly named Cartography, moved cautiously with his head low – as if ready to dart off at any sudden movement.

Annie felt a blush of anger reach her. It was that killer! That murderer of birds. How dare he even contemplate entering her yard again! Oh! He was a fiend! 

She strode to the back door and slammed it open. Plates rattled on the shelves and a teacup on the table wobbled on its saucer. At the sudden sound, the cat twisted toward her. 

"Get out!" she shouted. "Get out! Get out!" and standing in the doorway, she frantically flapped her apron at the interloper, looking furious and ridiculous at the same time.

The cat spun and darted off at an astonishing speed. An Africa-shaped spot appeared to be falling off its hindquarters as the cat made a great leap, reaching the top of her fence. It ran across the brace and paused. The cat's steady golden gaze reached her and it gave her an imperious look before leaping over to disappear into the neighboring yard.

Ezra, sitting on the porch steps, jumped to his feet. "Auntie Annie," he cried. His eyes were wide with surprise. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Annie paused, still flustered. She took a moment to smooth her apron, reminding herself to calm down. "Ezra… that cat…" and she strained to complete her thought.

"Cartography," Ezra filled in. How he'd learned the cat's name was anyone's guess. Annie knew it because the chagrinned neighbors that had brought her a potted plant after a particularly nasty massacre under her cherry tree.

"Ezra, we can't let that cat in the yard," she finally stated. "It knows it's not supposed to be here."

"But why?" Ezra asked, staring toward the fence where the cat had disappeared. "Carty's friendly."

"Don't let him fool you." Annie crossed her arms across her chest. "He's an awful, awful cat!" 

Ezra ducked his head and stated, "He lets me pet his head and he likes it when I scratch him under his chin. He seems to be a good enough cat."

"He kills birds, Ezra." Annie looked up apprehensively to the branches of her tree, wondering about the safety of the flock. The finches, bluebirds and chickadees, so merrily piping earlier, had all grown silent. "He's always killing the birds. I chase him out every time he comes into the yard. And I thought he'd finally learned that he wasn't wanted here." She frowned, her arms tight against her breast. "He's an awful creature."

Ezra bit his lip and furrowed his brow as he thought. He asked in a quiet voice, "Can he come into the yard if I make sure he doesn't eat any of the birds?"

"You can't change a cat, Ezra," Annie told him. "Cats will be cats."

"I promise, I'll watch him whenever I'm home." Ezra moved closer to her. "I'll show him what's right. I'll teach him to be good. You can chase him away when I'm not here to watch him."

Annie sighed, not wanting anything to do with a cat, but the beseeching look on Ezra's face cut a swath through her heart. How could she deny the boy anything? He asked for so little.

Still, it had taken the better part of a year to teach that cat to avoid her yard. Dozens of beautiful songbirds had been slaughtered before it had learned that lesson. What would happen if she started allowing it to return? 

"He's not a good cat, Ezra. Maybe I can find a kitten. A kitten that could be taught right from wrong, from the start. It could be taught right from wrong and wouldn't do terrible things. Would you like a kitten, Ezra? It could be all yours."

Ezra made a strange face, both excited and unhappy at the same time. "No thank you, Auntie Annie," he answered, his eyes downcast. "That wouldn't be appropriate as I have no idea how long I will be here."

There it was, that thought that always came to Annie at the worst times – Ezra would have to leave eventually. He had no permanence – he was that mote of dust left at the will of the wind.

Ezra continued with that same pensive expression, "I thought, perhaps, Carty could be like a pet to me – without the troubles of ownership. Keeping something for good is never without penalties. He comes when I call him." Ezra lifted his eyes and met hers. "Please?" he softly asked. "I swear, if he even looks at the birds, I'll chase him out myself. I'm very good at watching things. I'm very observant." And his eyes were wide and unbelievably green.

"Well…" Annie started, feeling all of her resolve crumbling.

"Thank you!" Ezra exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Annie's waist as he hugged her. "He'll be no trouble at all! I'll take care of everything. You'll see."

Annie sighed, wondering what she was getting into.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

 

The days were long and hot as August sauntered past. Ezra spent part of every day in the yard, doing his best to fulfill his promise. Annie sat by her kitchen window one afternoon, watching him. Ezra leaned against the cherry tree as he held a book in one hand, reading as if he would never get his fill.

Annie considered joining Ezra until she saw the big spotted cat strolling through her yard. She felt her ire rising. She strode to the door, laid a hand on the latch, ready to thrust it open and shout at the awful animal -- but she'd made a promise to Ezra.

She suspected that many people had made promises to the boy, yet she figured few had managed to keep them. She could keep this agreement. It was a small thing, really. Let him play with the cat. She trusted Ezra to keep up his end of the bargain. Maybe he could retrain the malicious feline.

Ezra sat up as he took note of the intruder. The cat froze and the two creatures stared at each other expectantly. Ezra made an encouraging motion, patting the ground beside him, and the cat continued, choosing a winding path through the grass to be near the boy. It accepted a careful scratch between its ears, just between the British Isles. When Ezra removed his hand, the cat butted his shoulder, then laid down in the cool shade to keep the boy company.

As she puttered around the house, Annie watched that cat – watched that boy. Whenever the cat would stiffen, eyes upon the branches of her trees, whenever that tail thrashed on the grass, Ezra would give the cat a distracting pat. He'd talk to it, whisper intently, scratch him in those special spots -- and the cat would forget about the birds, enjoying the gentle ministrations of the boy.

It did seem to be a good cat, Annie thought, watching the cat raise a paw and gently, playfully bat at the boy – not like her own mother's cat, Patches. That cat would bite when it became tired of her attention. Cartography rolled onto his back and twisted about, seeming to smile at the boy.

Maybe, Annie thought, just maybe, Ezra could change that cat. It certainly seemed possible, as she watched Ezra set aside the book to fashion a toy from a long piece of grass. He sent the cat running after a make-believe mouse. He laughed as the cat pounced. He brought the shaft of grass upward and the cat leaped. The boy shouted happily.

The cat, perhaps, was salvageable. Maybe it could be retrained to be a respectable creature. The cat stopped its antics and rubbed against the boy, making Ezra smile. The animal couldn't be all bad -- if it loved her Ezra, Annie decided.

Suddenly, she didn't loathe the spotted cat any longer, and she watched contentedly as the boy continued to play with the animal.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

 

Annie spent the morning sorting through fabric in the parlor, intent on making Ezra new clothing. The boy was outgrowing what he came with and needed something new. She searched for the fabrics she had long ago purchased for her Harold, but it was all rather dull. She contemplated something bright for the energetic lad.

A knock at the door drew her activity to a stop. The hour was too early for Mr. Ryder, the postman. She set down the pile of fabric and smiled when she saw two of the townswomen. Mrs. Leary and Mrs. Kraus stood on her porch. Buttercup Leary held her mouth as if she'd just tasted lemons. Martha Kraus kept her hands tightly in front of her, her expression claiming that she really didn't want to be there.

Well, what's all this about, Annie thought as she pushed a stray hair out of the way, tucking it into the bun at the back of her head. She opened the door and cheerfully greeted them. The women smiled tight little smiles.

"Good morning, Mrs. Greer," Mrs. Leary returned her salutation.

"Won't you come in?" Annie invited, opening the door wide.

"Thank you, Mrs. Greer," Mrs. Kraus uttered as she moved into Annie's house. She gave Annie an uncomfortable smile.

"It's always so nice to have visitors," Annie chatted as she showed them into her home. She directed them away from the parlor, currently occupied with too many bits and pieces of her fabric inventory. Leading them to her kitchen table, she said, "I've been having so many guests lately. It's really delightful to get to know my neighbors and I'm so glad you stopped by. Would you like some tea?"

Martha looked as if she wanted to say, 'yes', but Buttercup quickly responded for both of them. "No, Mrs. Greer, I'm afraid we don't have time for such niceties."

"Oh," Annie responded, wondering at Mrs. Leary's curt sound.

The visitors found seats at the table. Mrs. Kraus took a moment to get comfortable while Annie fretted as she waited, finally taking a seat when both of her guests were situated. "What can I do for you?" Annie asked.

"It's about the boy," Buttercup got right to the point.

"Ezra?" Annie responded, surprised.

"Is he here?" Martha asked, looking about the room as if the child might materialize.

"No, no…" Annie replied. "He's gone to Mrs. Chan's grocery."

"The Chinese woman?" Mrs. Leary made a face.

Martha asked, "So, he'll be home soon?"

"Oh no," Annie replied with a little laugh. "He'll probably be there most of the day. He likes to help her unpack when she gets new shipments. He's always coming home with marvelous stories of what exotic things she's brought in. Who knows when he'll be back."

"So, he's not under your control?" Buttercup asked.

"My Control?" Annie questioned. "I usually know where he is. He tells me before he goes. He'll be back before dinner, but he enjoys exploring on his own." 

Buttercup creased her forehead. "Do you think that's wise?" 

"Wise?" Annie echoed and then smiled warmly. "He's quite independent," she explained.

Martha bit her lip and Buttercup let out a groan. "Independent is the wrong word," Buttercup corrected. "What he is, is a troublemaker."

"Ezra?" Annie exclaimed, startled by this comment. "No, he's a good boy."

"Trouble," Mrs. Leary reiterated. "Why, I hear he's been a terror to half the town!"

Annie's face fell. "No, he's not. He's a well-behaved gentleman."

"Oh," Mrs. Leary went on, "I have information from credible sources that begs to differ."

Annie looked unimpressed. "What did you hear?"

"He's been harassing the Campbells," Buttercup stated. "…And Pastor Branson."

"Pastor Branson likes him," Annie returned, feeling her back stiffen, wondering how the Campbell family and Pastor Branson could equate to 'half the town'.

Martha told her, "Pastor Branson was so upset when that boy got up into the steeple! He was red faced and light-headed and had to lay down for the rest of the day."

"He was only afraid for Ezra," Annie explained.

"That child is a naughty boy who can't behave civilly!" Buttercup said with a pout. "A boy climbing a church steeple! It's unconscionable! He nearly killed Pastor Branson with his shenanigans."

"I told him not to do that again," Annie said as calmly as she could, but she could feel a heat of indignation rising in her. "And he hasn't been up there again. Pastor Branson was fine. He was just a bit excited is all."

"So you say," Mrs. Leary said with a sniff. "Let's not forget that the child has been in the company of a bad element in town."

"Bad element? In this town?" Annie responded.

"He was playing cards in the Meadows Tavern," Buttercup told her. "Any child that spends time with those sorts of people will be ruined, beyond saving."

"Months ago!" Annie countered. "And he hasn't gone again since I told him he couldn't."

"And you believe that?" Mrs. Leary asked leadingly.

"I do," Annie responded with conviction.

Martha leaned forward, pressing her ample belly against the table as she told her friend, "Nobody's seen him there for months, Buttercup. Maybe he did stop going."

"The damage is already done," Mrs. Leary decided with a harrumph. "He's probably spent most of his life in a bar. Dreadful place for anyone. That can't help but ruin a child. He'll never grow up to be a normal, decent man."

"He will," Annie insisted.

"Science has proven against it," Buttercup said with a nod. "Then, there are the older boys up on Post Street. Your boy gambles with them."

"He plays marbles."

"It's gambling just the same," Buttercup pointed out. "A child should know better than to be with ill-bred boys like that. He'll turn out just like them, no doubt." 

"They seemed like good boys to me," Annie defended, thinking of the older boys who'd let Ezra in on their games – who'd encouraged him to come back. They were the only children that Ezra had made friends with in town. There weren't any others that lived nearby. They'd come by the house a few times looking for him and always spoke civilly to her. "I see nothing wrong with them just because they don't have all the niceties."

"As if you could be trusted to judge," Buttercup countered. "I've raised three of them myself. Good upstanding children. I don't think that boy knows how to behave correctly. I don't think he can." She raised her chin and said derisively, "We all know where he came from."

Martha continued, sympathetically, "We know what his mother was and how she left him."

Annie's frown increased, annoyed that so many people had found out about Ezra's origin. "What's that have to do with anything?"

"He has bad blood," Buttercup continued. "His mother is a felon, no doubt. She's probably imprisoned as we speak and that's why she hasn't returned. Either that, or she's figured that he isn't worth returning for. In any case, she has trained him to be a criminal as well. He's headed down that same path."

"Bound for jail… or worse," Martha said, clucking sadly.

"He's a bad one," Buttercup further illuminated.

"He's not bad," Annie sharply responded.

"He is," Buttercup corrected her. "He was born bad and has been brought up bad. He's destined to turn into something immoral. It's been proven by scientists! I heard they've done experiments with orphans to prove it. There's no denying science, is there?" She continued in the same haughty tone, "We need you to keep him under control. To stop him from desecrating our holy church again. He needs to be kept from those Post Street boys. He should never hurt innocent people like the Campbells."

Martha said softly, "I saw him laughing after he left that package of… of…" She blushed and waved her chubby hands, negating any need to say the foul word. "… in front of the Campbells store and then lit it on fire!"

"Horrendous beast!" Buttercup growled. "People could have gotten hurt, killed even! Playing with fire! He should have been locked up, but …" and Mrs. Leary's face took on an even nastier expression as she stated, "Because you have a certain friend in the police office, the boy was able to go home instead of to jail! The child deserves a good flogging. It probably won't fix him, but it might teach him a lesson. He'll never amount to anything good."

Annie stood in one quick movement. "You need to go," she said brusquely.

Martha stood, looking sympathetic, and turned to her companion. Buttercup remained planted in her seat. "I want to discuss what you're going to do about him," Mrs. Leary continued.

"You need to go. Now," Annie said, her brow furrowed.

Martha moved a step or two toward the door, and glanced to Buttercup again.

"We came here to have a discussion with you," Mrs. Leary uttered.

"Nothing you say is worth listening to," Annie said, wanting to calm the beating of her heart, to quell the heat that reached her face.

"Butty!" Martha cried. "Mrs. Greer asked us to leave. We're going now."

"But, Martha!" Buttercup insisted.

"We're leaving," the large woman said sharply to her companion. She turned to Annie and repeated in a softer tone, "We're leaving now. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Buttercup grumbled as she stood. "Mark my words," Mrs. Leary uttered. "That boy will come to no good. He's a wicked delinquent who'll be nothing but a thief. Nobody will want him, and you'd best be rid of him as soon as possible." She threw back her head and started toward the hallway.

Annie blocked her. "You listen to me!" she hissed with more anger than she thought possible. "You don't know anything about Ezra. He's had nothing but strife in his life, nothing but loneliness, yet he's turning out to be a wonderful young man. He's funny and thoughtful, and smart and dedicated and sweet and patient…" Annie stopped to take a breath before continuing with, "And he's full of life and he doesn't suffer fools. That's something I need to learn about. Now get out of my house before I throw you out!"

Buttercup made a startled gasp and Martha covered her mouth. 

"Why, I never!" Mrs. Leary exclaimed, turning. "Come on, Martha. We're leaving!" and she stomped to the front door.

Martha gave Annie a strange look, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, before she turned and followed her scurrying friend, catching the door before it slammed shut.

Annie followed to the door so that she could stare out the front window and watch them go. Her breath heaved in her chest. She felt angry and sad at the same time and she stomped her foot in frustration, in a rage over the small-mindedness of some people. How dare she talk about Ezra like that! The imprudent woman knew nothing about her boy!

She turned sharply and walked through her home, searching for some privacy -- to sit, to calm down, to put aside the vile comments of Buttercup Leary. She had to quiet her racing heart, get some control on her galloping emotions. She headed to the rear porch.

Annie came to an abrupt halt as she looked through the rear doorway's pane. Two figures rested on the top step.

Ezra sat with his back to the door, and the cat with the map of the world sat beside him. The boy's posture was stiff, his hands tucked in front of him. The cat's bearing had a contemplative quality, its head bowed, as it sat beside the boy.

They weren't touching each other – they were just quietly poised on the top step as if the entire universe revolved around them.

Beside her, the curtain on an open window moved in the light breeze. Annie let loose a low breath, realizing that the conversation at the kitchen table must have carried to that back porch. Had he heard everything?

With a heavy heart, she started to open the door. The alert cat turned, spotting Annie at the window. Its dark pupils widened to fill its eyes. It hesitated a moment before leaving the boy's side. But another glance over its shoulder sent it darting off. Ezra raised one hand, lightly running it over the continents of Europe and Asia as the cat made its dash for the fence.

The boy didn't turn as she opened the door. He must have realized she was coming. She came beside him, fussing with her skirts until she could sit down on the porch step beside him.

Before she could speak, Ezra said softly, "I can't help it. I just can't stop myself sometimes."

"They didn't mean what they said," Annie tried.

"But they did," the boy responded. "They meant every word of it."

Annie tried, "I don't believe any of it." When the boy said nothing, Annie said, "I think you're a good boy."

Ezra kept his head down, not daring to look at her. "It's like they said," the boy commented. "I was born bad and will always be bad. My mother even tells me so."

"She told you that you were bad?" Annie exclaimed, incredulous.

"She said I have talent," Ezra corrected. "Talent for certain nefarious schemes. She says I was born to it. I have nimble hands, excellent for pick pocketing and stacking a deck; I have a capable mind best suited for the art of the con; and an able memory that is best used for counting cards and finding the weaknesses of others. She tells me it would be a waste for me to attempt any other profession."

"But you can use those same talents for other things," Annie explained.

"It's all I know," Ezra said softly, eyeing the porch step below his feet.

"You don't have to take that path." She smiled and softly said, "Listen, you can start by leaving the Campbells alone."

Ezra sneered and finally looked up to his Aunt. "They started it!" he defended. "They started by charging you too much for your groceries. It was shameful what they were doing. And you weren't the only one. I told other folk about what they'd done, and the Campbells they started getting rude."

"It's time you let them be, Ezra," Annie tried to scold. "They'll leave you alone if you stop pestering them."

"They're mean to Mrs. Chan," Ezra said softly. "They called her awful names and told people that she sold dog meat in her store. They hurt her." The boy rested his arms on his knees. "I made them pay for that."

"Ezra, dear," Annie started. "You can't be mean to the Campbells anymore."

Ezra nodded and poked at the step with the toe of his foot. "I'll try."

"And maybe you shouldn't go down to Post Street anymore." She heard Ezra's intake of breath, so she continued. "Those boys are too old for you and some of them may be trouble."

"I can take care of myself," Ezra answered surely. "And we're only playing marbles."

"Please, Ezra," Annie said quietly. "Try to behave."

Ezra sighed and nodded. "I'll try to be good," he said softly.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

For the week that followed, Ezra swore he'd stopped his campaign against the Campbell family. Emma Chan later told Mrs. Greer that the Learys had always been good friends with the Campbells, so there was little wonder why Buttercup had come calling that day.

The Campbells gave her smug smiles as she passed their store. She was certain she heard them laughing behind her back.

When questioned about how the Campbells had treated her, Emma Chan was philosophical. "Sometimes," she said, "People hurt what they don't understand."

Early one morning, Annie caught the Emma and her daughter, hurriedly washing down the front of their store. Both wore stony expressions as the scrubbed at the windows and siding. When Emma looked up and met Annie's gaze, Mrs. Chan said quickly. "It's nothing. A joke." She smiled joylessly. A few rotten melon rinds still littered the walk outside their door, tell-taling that someone had pelted the store with the fruit. When Annie offered to help, Emma shook her head, and said that they were nearly done, and asked Annie to go on her way, to not tell anyone, especially not Ezra.

Annie didn't miss the hurt look on her friend's face.

And Ezra had been well-behaved. There'd been no more talk of rude behavior and no further pranks about the town. He was as good as gold. It made the boy seem sadder as he moved about her house – it made him quiet. 

Officer Costello talked to Annie one afternoon, asking about the boy. "He's changed," Aaron said. "Is he all right?"

Annie noted the change, too, and tried to make Ezra happy. She taught him new tunes on the piano – but a stillness seemed to follow the boy – a quiet that didn't fit him.

Annie met Buttercup Leary in town one day, and the lady was congenial, telling Annie how proud she was that her visit had changed the boy's behavior, how glad she was that the little scamp was acting more like a gentleman. It was good for the whole town.

But Emma and Aaron, and other friends weren't sure what to make of the somber child. Mr. Whistler, Mr. Ryder and the Beverlys, the cigar shop owner, the barber, the Post Street boys, Pastor Branson, nearly anyone Annie came in contact with seemed to miss the boy they'd come to know -- and wanted to know what was wrong.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie and Ezra arrived home one day, after visiting the park. Mrs. Greer walked into the house, while Ezra circled around the outside, looking for his little companion. Annie had walked as far as the kitchen, when she heard Ezra shouting frantically.

She hurried through the back door, horrified at what she might find. She barely caught sight of the terrified spotted cat as it leapt onto the fence. Its ears were back as it darted up and over, disappearing from her yard in a flash. A hail of rocks and sticks followed Cartography's departure.

"Get out! GET OUT OF HERE!" the boy was shouting, still finding projectiles to throw at the fence. They made a tremendous racket as they bombarded the space where the cat had disappeared. "Never come back! NEVER! YOU'RE NOT WANTED!" and a particularly large rock crashed against the fence, splintering one of the planks. "Nobody wants you!"

"Ezra!" Annie shouted, running down the rear steps.

"You're an awful cat!" and more rocks flew. "Bad!"

"Ezra! Ezra!" Annie cried, holding up her hands toward the distraught boy.

Ezra let the last stone drop as he turned to her. His voice became a hushed whisper as he stated, "I tried."

"What's wrong, Ezra? What happened?" she asked, laying her hands on his shoulders. 

The boy pointed. "He's no good. He's never going to be good. He's always going to be bad!" Ezra cried, revealing the bloody pile of blue feathers near the base of the cherry tree. 

Annie's gaze dropped to the sad little remains of a bluebird, and for once her pity didn't rest with the bird.

"He can't be changed!" Ezra shouted, and with that, the boy spun from her grasp and ran.

"Ezra!" Annie called after, but the boy was gone.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

Annie waited in the parlor, not in one of the plush chairs, but rather in the big old rocking chair. It had been her mother's and she'd brought it to this house as a reminder of her. Rocking made her feel better – she'd spent months in the rocker after Harold had passed. She'd not needed it since Ezra came to stay with her.

She listened to the house, waiting until she heard a creak at the door that let her know that the boy was back. He entered quietly, slinking across the floor.

"Ezra," she called softly to the shadow that crept toward the stairs. The shape cringed and then the boy came into the soft light of the parlor. "Ezra, are you all right?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Annie," Ezra said contritely, head bowed. "I shouldn't have been so rude." He buried his hands in his pockets as he added, "I'll make certain that the cat doesn't come back. I was wrong about everything. He couldn't be changed."

"Come here, Ezra," Annie called, holding out a hand. The boy came closer, lingered a moment outside her reach, but stepped nearer when her arm didn't lower. She grasped his hand.

"I'm so sorry about the bird," Ezra murmured. "I really tried to make Carty good. I thought I could teach him." He shrugged and continued, "There's just no changing some things." 

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It wasn't meant to work out," Ezra continued, still holding Annie's hand, but staying a step away from her. "Some just can't be made good, no matter how hard someone tries."

"You're a good boy, Ezra," she whispered.

The boy made a soft sound and then muttered, "I know what I am. I know what I'm supposed to be. There's no changing it."

In the dim room, still holding the boy's hand, Annie whispered, "I like you just the way you are and wouldn't change it for anything."

He said nothing immediately, then, in a low voice, uttered, "You don't care what I am?"

Annie smiled wistfully. "I think I might rather like you this way." She smiled, gazing at Ezra's perplexed expression. "It keeps things lively. It makes my life exciting. I'm tired of a quiet little house and I don't want a 'perfect boy'. I like Ezra. I want you to be happy."

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Mrs. Greer," a deep, genial voice called. Annie turned to Officer Costello as she paused on her walk through town. He smiled at her, his eyes warm and brown, he held his hands behind him as he stood so regally in his uniform.

"Officer Costello," she returned and smiled as well. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Delightful," he responded, sidling up beside her. "And getting better by the moment."

Annie let him draw near, enjoying his presence. She felt like a silly girl with him so close.

Aaron stated, "Awfully good to see Ezra happy. He seemed so sad before. I missed him. It's nice to see some spirit in him again. "

"I wouldn't have him any other way," Annie responded with a little laugh.

"And speaking of 'spirit'…" Costello cocked his head as he watched the Campbell family lined up in front of their store. Someone had splattered the entire façade with eggs, and the disgusting matter had dried hard in the Sunday sun. "Strange weather we've been having," he commented offhand.

Annie covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide a giggle, before she responded, "A very odd rain indeed."

Aaron rolled his eyes, pausing as he gazed upward, to the roof of the courthouse. "At least it's not the church steeple this time," he commented softly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I may need to take a turn through some of the backstreets of town." He tipped his hat and swinging his baton, slipped into a convenient alley, moving quickly to avoid the Campbells before they noticed the lawman on the street.

Annie shook her head, watching as the Campbells labored in their Sunday best. They didn't look so smug now. Too upset with the vandalism to their store, they hadn't thought of changing into more appropriate clothing. She turned, glancing upward to where Aaron had indicated and finally caught sight of her boy.

Up at the clock tower of the courthouse, Ezra crouched, remaining unseen by the grocers. He smirked as he held onto the roof, watching intently to the scene below. Something caught his eye and he turned to see his guardian.

His expression changed, and Annie saw the worry flit across his features. She smiled at him, unable to find any expression that would be more appropriate. And he returned her expression with a relieved grin of his own. He waved with his free hand, and she made a little wave of her own, doing her best not to reveal his position.

He looked happy. He looked madly happy on that rooftop, watching the results of his work. Seeming satisfied, he let loose his hold and crab-walked toward the far side of the roof to dismount.

She turned, not wanting to see him scrambled down from his high perch. Already, her heart was beating fast in fear for him. But as she walked home, she couldn't hide the quiet delight she felt in seeing the boy enjoy himself again.

She'd only managed to walk a block or so when a fast moving creature came to her side, and a hand reached out to take hers. She looked down, meeting the bright eyes of her Ezra. He grinned up at her, his face flush with excitement and exertion. She smiled back, and he let his other arm swing as they walked.

They headed home.

He was a good boy, Annie knew. She loved him for his every flaw, and she wouldn't change him for the world. She only hoped that she'd be able to keep him with her long enough to convince the boy of how wonderful he truly was.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

"Ezra!" Buck shouted up to the gambler's window. "Get your britches down here, on the pronto!"

The window slammed open and Ezra appeared, pulling on his suspenders. "Trouble?"

"With a capital T R O and you know the rest," Buck called up. "Get down here now! You're needed."

"Right," Ezra responded and disappeared from the window, to emerge moments later from the front door of the saloon, pulling on his jacket. "What's up, Buck? Desperados? A bank robbery in process." He had one hand on the gun at his hip. "A prison break? A river in flood? Stampede?"

"Miss Esmerelda needs a dance partner," Buck told him as he led the way.

"What?" Ezra squawked.

"I want to take Miss Ruby dancin', but she won't go without her sister. And since her name sounds so much like yours, you were the first person I thought of," Buck explained.

Ezra came to a halt. "You rousted me from my afternoon siesta to help you with a woman?"

"Now, now, I have never needed help with a woman!" Buck corrected hotly. "I just need a little help..."

"With a woman," Ezra completed.

Buck ran a hand over his face. "Ruby wants to come dancing, but Esmerelda is just sitting around the house, giving her a long face."

"It's a damn shame, but I was plannin' a night at the tables. A nap would've been beneficial."

Buck went on, "Their mama is really particular about who takes the girls out dancin'. She won't accept just anyone. When I brought up your name, she gave the go ahead."

"I pass muster? That family must set their sights rather low." Ezra paused and regarded Wilmington. "I've been told that I'm a ne'er-do-well."

"That's true," Buck said. "But apparently, they think you're a good enough fella. They'll trust you with their darling girl."

Ezra smiled at that, and then tipped his head. "Of course, they're okay with you, so possibly anything goes?"

"The mama likes me!" Buck insisted. "Most mamas like me," he said. "I just got a way with women."

"That's the rumor," Ezra responded.

"The parents think you're a good fellow."

"Misguided," Ezra commented.

"Most folk around here feel the same," Buck said, and received a thoughtful look from his friend. "So, you willin' to help? Come on, Ezra. I really need this. Ruby has been leadin' me on for a while now. You're a pal. You'd help out a brother, wouldn't you?"

"Brother?" Erza repeated. "What's in it for me, brother?"

"A night of dancin' with the excellent Miss Esmerelda."

"Who, I hear from good sources, has two left feet."

"A challenge for you then," Buck said. "You are always braggin' about your prowess on the dancefloor. Let's see how good you really are."

"Hmmm," Ezra responded. "A challenge?"

"Yeah, Ezra, a challenge."

"Nope, not enough. I repeat – what's in it for me?"

Buck sighed, lifting and dropping his hands. "You know we ain't gettin' paid until the end of the week."

"You couldn't afford me in any case," Ezra responded. "Let me think." He paused and touched his lips as he thought. A smile and a snap of the fingers, and he said. "Ha! I've realized an excellent and affordable solution, designed just for you. What say you take my next patrol?"

"Done!" Buck put out his hand.

"Tomorrow morning," Ezra completed as he shook the hand.

"Nuts!" Buck cried. "You usually don't do mornings." And then, "Hey, you got that shift because you traded Nathan. You wanted to take his Ridge City job, so Nathan made you take his morning shift."

"Indeed, I did. Now I get to go dancin' this afternoon, gamblin' tonight, I have tomorrow morning off, and this weekend, I'll be in Ridge City while you plebeians continue your labors here." He grinned like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"You're always up to something," Buck muttered.

"It's to keep you on your toes," Ezra said. "I wouldn't want you to become complacent."

Buck chuckled as he shook his head, and gestured in the direction empty lot on the corner where the big dance was getting started. "It's always a pleasure dealin' with you, Ezra," Buck said in an exasperated tone.

"Of course, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said. "Always a pleasure."

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Facts about Cats – Timbuk3 - Written by Pat MacDonald  
> Well, Rocking Robin said "Oh mama, please,  
> I'm begging you down on bended knees  
> I wanna go down, wanna jump and shout  
> Down on the corner where the cats hang out  
> Down on the corner where the cats hang out."
> 
> Her mama said "Rockin, you're making me cry,  
> But a robin's gotta rock, and a bird's gotta fly  
> but before you go jumping, go out rocking tonight  
> It's time that I tell you a few facts of life  
> It's time that I tell you a few facts of life"
> 
> Chorus:  
> "Cats will be cats, and cats will be cruel  
> Cats can be callous, and cats can be cool  
> Cats will be cats, remember these words  
> Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds  
> Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds"
> 
> "So Robin, get wise, use good sense,  
> And better brush up on your self-defense  
> It's a jungle out there, and hunger strikes deep  
> Better take care, better watch where you sleep  
> Better take care, better watch where you sleep."
> 
> Chorus:  
> "Cats will be cats, and cats will be cruel  
> Cats can be callous, and cats can be cool  
> Cats will be cats, remember these words  
> Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds  
> Cats will be cats, and cats eat birds"  
>  \-- by Pat MacDonald


End file.
